“I’d just like to learn everyone’s names,” she hedged, reluctant to admit that she thought she’d recognized one of the cowboys in case she’d been mistaken. “Without any of my memories I feel like my head is empty. I guess I figure I can fill it up with the people who are in my present.”
Abby nodded. “Stop by the office on your way to bed. I’ll have a list for you.”
It took Colette only a few minutes to clean up the dishes. As she worked, she thought of the dark-haired cowboy with the haunting shadowy eyes. Of course, there was no way by looking at a list of names she’d know immediately which name was his. She hopedby looking at the names, one would jump out and ring a bell of recognition.
However, she was also aware of the fact that she might have been mistaken in thinking she knew the cowboy. He might simply bare a passing resemblance to somebody in her past.
Later that night she sat in her room, the light on the desk illuminating the list of names Abby had provided to her. There was a total of seventeen names. Three female, the rest males.
Abby had marked the names of the men she’d hired in the last month. There were five. Roger Eaton, Bob Sanderson, Philip Weiss, Hank Cooper and Billy Sims. The names meant nothing to her, although she wondered vaguely which name went with the dark cowboy. She’d met Roger, who’d helped her up when she’d fallen, but he’s the only name she could attach with a face.
She sighed in frustration, realizing no matter how long, how hard she stared at the list, nothing changed. Stretching with arms overhead, she stood and walked over to the crib. As always, her heart expanded as she gazed at her sleeping daughter.
Brook slept on her tummy, a thumb stuck in her mouth. Her sweet baby scent wafted on the air, filling Colette’s sense with the headiness of a love so pure, so clean, it ached inside her. She stroked the dark down that covered Brook’s head. “Sweet baby,” she whispered.
She fought the impulse to pick her up, snuggle Brook against her heart. Did it really matter that she couldn’t remember her past? She could be as strong as Abby, raise Brook as a single parent. Surely ifBrook’s father was a loving, caring man, he’d be here. She wouldn’t have been alone in a Las Vegas hotel room. If he’d loved Colette, wanted the baby, he would have shown up by now.
Sighing heavily, she turned from the crib and went into the adjoining bathroom. As she washed her face, she stared at her reflection, trying to find a resemblance to Abby and Belinda. Both her sisters had blond hair, while Colette’s was a chestnut brown. Their eyes were blue and hers were hazel.
Still, she thought she saw a likeness in the shape of her face, a sameness in the contour of her lips. It comforted her. Without her memories she felt displaced, groundless, but her familial ties to Belinda and Abby soothed her, gave her emotional sustenance.
She changed from her clothes into a long, white cotton nightgown, then went into the bedroom. The near full moon beckoned, spilling silvery light through the window. She pulled the curtains aside and gazed out. The landscape looked surreal in the light.
The clicking of insects, the hushed whisper of a night breeze and the distant lowing of the cattle drifted in through the open window. Comforting night noises. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the window frame, her gaze still directed out the window.
Feeling more at peace than she had since her arrival, she started to turn away from the window, but paused as a flicker of movement captured her gaze.
There, by the edge of the barn. She squinted, trying to pierce the dark shadows of night. Yes, she was certain. There was somebody standing there, staringtoward her window. She could almost feel the intensity of his gaze prickling on her skin.
As she watched, a match flared then died, producing the red glow of a lit cigarette. Was he watching her window? Or merely leaning against the barn for a quick smoke?
Suddenly realizing that with the desk lamp lit she was probably perfectly silhouetted in the window frame, she pulled the curtains tightly closed and moved away.
She shut off the desk lamp, then crawled into bed, still disturbed. Even if the man outside wasn’t staring at her window or watching her, she realized she could never be completely happy or safe without her memories.
Something in her past threatened her. She didn’t know what or who. She only knew until she remembered her past, she would never know when her present happiness might be shattered.
